Firebrand in Forks
by clahari
Summary: There’s a newcomer in Forks, a young man with a devil-may-care attitude who might be more intricately connected to the notorious Cullen family than he or anyone else could imagine. Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**Title****: Firebrand in Forks**

**Summary:**** There's a newcomer in Forks, a young man with a devil-may-care attitude who might be more intricately connected to the notorious Cullen family than he or anyone else could imagine. **

**Disclaimer:**** Lots of these characters aren't mine, but some are… I'm sure you'll know the difference. I don't want to get in trouble in any way for this, so if I make any mistakes, please forgive! :D**

**Author's Note(s):**** First off, I wanted to point out that this story is very slightly a cross-over between Twilight and Gilmore Girls. I admit I am totally in love with Jess Mariano's character from Gilmore Girls and take inspiration for him for my character of Damon Arlington. ****It's not obvious enough to actually list this as a cross-over story, but it might be obvious for followers of Gilmore Girls like me, so I just wanted to point it out and make sure I don't get in trouble for borrowing ideas from different places. ****I did try my very best to add enough of a twist to the character to make his **_**experiences**_** my own even if all of his characteristics aren't, so I hope that works. **

**Secondly, this story has more of a drama-base than a fantasy-base to it. To begin with, it's more of just a story about high school students, but as it progresses, I do intend to add the Twilight intrigue that we so love. ******** It still borrows a lot of ideas from Twilight including characters, settings, etc. so I thought it best to include it in the Twilight fanfiction realm. ******** Please read and REVIEW! I love reviews as much as any other author thirsting for some honest critisism of their work!**

**Chapter One: Midnight Bristling**

"Hello?"

"How's my baby doing?" The voice on the other end of the line was overly cheerful to a point of flaw. "Did you find Margaret and Carlos okay at the airport, sweetie?"

"Yeah."

"And you got settled in and everything fine—you took everything you need?"

"Yeah."

"Just let me know if you're missing anything, okay? I'll send it over right away."

"Sure."

"So, come on! Tell me how it's going in more than one-syllable responses, please."

Damon Arlington sighed into his cell phone. "I'm contemplating jumping, Mom."

"What?!" His mother's voice rose by at least seven pitches, making him jerk the phone away from his ear. He winced, listening to his mother's hysterics. He admitted he had done that one completely on purpose.

"Damon—baby—don't do it! Where are Uncle Carlos and Aunt Margaret? I swear I'm going to kill her, can't believe she left you alone, but, listen to me, baby, please j-just listen to me for a minute—"

"Mom, relax," Damon drawled out. "I'm contemplating jumping out of my second floor-window onto the _tree_ outside so I can climb down and get away from this hick town."

There was an odd noise made up mostly of relief and a bit of shock on the other line. Damon allowed himself to smile at his success of shutting his mother up and waited for the lecture. His mother did not disappoint, but he also didn't want to hear it. "Hey, Mom," he cut her off, "I'm going to have to hang up now. I don't wanna talk on the phone while climbing down the tree 'cuz that would just be too dangerous, don't you think?"

He snapped his phone shut and slipped it into his back-pocket. He looked down at the ground below—not an awful jump, but it would probably end up in at least a broken bone, so he decided not to risk it. Instead, he carefully stepped down the slope of the roof until the point where the long branch of the tree next to his window crossed over and stepped onto it. Within thirty seconds, he was on the ground, rubbing off the wood dust from his hands on the back of his pants.

"This is going to be too easy," he whispered to himself, looking up towards the bedroom window he had just exited. Suddenly, the glow of lights appeared in the sliver of window he could see from his angle. He ducked and slinked away into the thick darkness of the woods behind the house as he heard his aunt's voice behind him, "He's done _what_? Oh, my God, Carlos! Carlos!"

She sounded so much like his mom who was the one who had called her, he was sure. _Great_, he thought. This was just what he needed—being trapped in this god-awful little settling that didn't even deserve to be called a 'town' with another Mom. He zipped his jacket up to his collar-bone, shivering slightly in his damp surroundings, and continued walking at the edge of the woods until he thought it was safe. He stepped again in the backyard of yet another dingy little house and silently rushed past it to the main road—the _only_ road—of Forks, Washington.

It was eleven o'clock at night and most of the houses around him were mostly dark and silent except for a few lit windows through with the flickering of television sets could be seen. He continued walking until he hit an area of small stores, most of which were—once again—closed by now. He stopped in the middle of the road, searching his memory. "Liquor store, liquor store," he whispered.

He remembered having passed it on his right on the way here. Perhaps he was in the wrong area of town… perhaps there were two whole streets in Forks but he just happened to miss the other one because it was so damn inconspicous! He continued walking, not particularly caring to find his destination as long as he was away from the house he had just fled.

His cell phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket and saw his uncle's name printed across the caller-ID. He flipped it open. "Hello, Aunt! What has you calling me so late at night?"

"Damon, you get your ass back here this _minute_, do you hear me?"

"Relax, I'm just exploring the neighborhood," he replied nonchalantly, looking at one sight after another of the tiny little stores dotted between the homes on either side of him. He did a double-take when he saw 'Forks Community Library' hanging over what he had first thought to be a separate garage-unit of of a nearby home. Okay, it wasn't _that_ small, but by no means could it ever qualify as a library.

His aunt took a deep breath on the other end of the line. "Damon, I swore to your sister that I would take care of you, but I wish you would stop making it so difficult. Please come back."

"Aww, you said 'please'." Damon was barely listening but he decided to indulge her. "Tell you what, I'll be back before midnight. How does that sound?"

"Damon--!"

"Love you too, Aunty dearest," he snapped the phone shut, not bothering to listen to the rest of her complaints. He was sick of pretending to care for those who were pretending to care for him. If his parents had been so bent on sending him to this hell-hole without even consulting him, then he at least deserved to make up his own rules and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Suddenly, he stopped, his ears picking up voices. He turned to his right and saw the sign for Forks High School. He looked around the general vicinity of the signs but saw nothing but a thick gathering of more houses behind a big empty lot. Shrugging it off, he stepped off the road and into the path leading to the lot, following the voices.

"You don't want to go home?"

A girl giggled.

"Carlisle will _murder_ me… okay, then Edward will when he comes back from Dartmouth… yeah, but that doesn't mean he'll want to tear me from limb to limb for keeping you out so late—"

Damon could easily hear the low voice of the boy as he slowly walked around one of the buildings closest to him, but he couldn't hear anything from the girl except for soft laughter.

"—okay, I'll take him on then, just for you—wait—"

Damon stopped and turned around quickly to make sure no one was around him. The voices had stopped suddenly and he wasn't quite sure why. He frowned and took a slow step forward. He was sure the couple were just around the corner in what appeared to be dim lighting at the back of the building. He heard what sounded like a low growl. The boy whispered 'no'. Damon took another step forward, even more intrigued.

He finally rounded the corner and saw a very large, bare-chested figure half-cloaked by shadows beneath a small lamp attached to the back of the building. Behind him, almost covered up by the width of his shoulers, was the girl. "Wow," Damon laughed slightly, pressing his shoulder into the cool brick of the wall and crossing his legs. "Isn't it a little past your guys's bed time?"

"Who are you?" The boy demanded. No, he _growled_ the words was more like it and he was pretty damn good at it too.

"You know, you should try out for a career as one of those animation voice-overs. You've _really_ got that deep, dangerous growling thing going for you." Damon's eyes traveled to the girl's as she stepped around her boyfriend. She was mostly hidden by the shadows of the night, but her skin glowed pale against the darkness. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one leg, a natural authority obvious in her stance.

"Hey, who the hell are you, punk?" the boyfriend growled again, stepping forward.

"Relax, _buddy_," Damon scoffed. "I was just out on a walk and heard voices… well, I heard _one_ voice at least. Thought I'd come make sure you weren't raping your girlfriend or anything."

"Did it _sound_ like I was raping anyone, kid?"

Damon shook his head, grinning at his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the couple exchange what appeared to be confused looks, then turned back to him. The boyfriend crossed his arms. "You made sure she was okay. You can go now."

Damon looked at the girl from beneath his lashes. She had been silent all throughout the encounter, but it was obvious by the quirk of her head that she had several things to say. "She talk at all?" He asked.

"None of your business."

Damon kept his eyes focused on the girl, feeling the warm smoke curl into his lungs. "What's your name?"

She rolled her eyes and looked towards her boyfriend.

"I think you need to leave."

"Good for you," Damon replied sarcastically. "It's good to think once in a while."

The boyfriend shook his head, laughing darkly. He took several menacing steps forward, now completely in the darkness, and said, "Tell you what, kid. You seem to be new here, so I'm going to let you go this once. You better run back home to mommy and have her tuck you into bed."

"Damn, you're really tall, you know that?" Damon looked him up and down. He was at least 6'7" or more. "What the hell did your mom feed you in this podunk town?"

He snarled—the guy _actually_ snarled—at Damon. "Whoa—whoa, take it easy, man!" Damon said quickly, putting up his hands defensively. "I don't wanna fight, especially not with you. I mean, you look like you could punch my skull in."

"And I'd be happy to also if you don't leave—"

"Jacob." The girl stepped forward, her soft voice ringing out with perfect clarity through the night. Damon blinked, turning to her finally. With her brilliantly pale skin, she seemed more like a walking night-lamp than a human. He could barely see her face, but he knew she would be beautiful.

"Oh, so the girlfriend _does_ talk," he smiled widely at her. "And here I was, thinking you were mute."

"Weren't you about to leave?" She asked him, her hand on _Jacob's_ shoulder.

"As soon as you tell me your name."

Jacob twitched.

"I mean—I know _this_ guy's name now. How ya' doing, Jacob? But seeing as to how I'm new to town, it's only proper manners that you introduce yourself too, isn't it?"

"I don't give a damn about proper manners," the girl replied, smiling.

"Ouch," Damon sighed, pressing his palm against his chest with a soft pout on his lips. "And I almost thought that you being so gorgeous and shy and all, that you _would_ give a damn."

Jacob stepped forward quickly and Damon, expecting the response, jumped back. He laughed. "All right, all right! I'm out. Have fun, _kids_," he winked at Jacob and turned around, deciding he probably pushed the guy enough for the night. Interesting couple, though, he thought, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Especially the girl. He turned one last time to wave cheerfully at her—an action that was not reciprocated.

As he strode back home, grinning, he couldn't help but wish to get to know her more just so he could see that gigantic lump of her boyfriend bristle with anger again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Carcinogenic Newcomers**

Charlotte Marks bit into her toast thoughtfully, her eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of her. The screen showed a wide, professional picture of a generic student with an overly wide smile on her face in front of Boston University. Charlotte scrolled down the page, her eyes narrowing as she read the description of their programs.

"Wear your glasses, we spent the money for all those consultations for a reason," her mother told her, dropping the small case onto the table beside her. Charlotte sighed and pulled out the offensive object and placed it onto her nose. The words became clearer, but she was wincing at the thought of having the glasses on her face. Her mother kissed her forehead and removed the empty bowl of cereal next to her laptop. "Looking at colleges, sweetie?" She asked as she dumped the bowl in the sink and turned on the faucet.

"I have to, right?" Charlotte sighed, closing the laptop and inserting it into a plain, brown case. "I need to start looking into applications like… right _now_."

"Yeah, but in _Boston_?"

Charlotte quickly stepped out of the kitchen without answering. She hated hearing the concern and sadness in her mother's voice every time the topic of colleges came up. After living all her life in the tiny town of Forks, the thought of her only daughter breaking the tradition and traveling even to the next state—let alone across the country—was something Angela Marks was not quite able to handle. Hearing that uncertainty and plea in her mother's voice only made Charlotte feel guiltier every time she even _turned_ to the common household laptop, and that was something she didn't really need right now.

She dropped the laptop in its case onto the study-desk in her mother's room and walked back downstairs. "Hey, Mom, I need to ask Mr. Banner for a recommendation letter, so I think I'll get going to school, is that okay?"

"It's only seven-fifteen," her mom called after her from the kitchen.

"Yeah, but…" Charlotte bit her lip, contemplating telling the truth, then sighed, "I also need to talk to the office about setting up a field-trip to the Olympic Correction Center."

"Honey, you're still not going on about that stupid jail, are you?" Angela sighed, stepping out into the doorway of the kitchen with a bowl and a dish-towel between her hands.

"I think it's a good idea," Charlotte replied in a small voice, staring at the handle of her backpack between her hands. "Getting students to go down there might get them interested in volunteering and stuff and we _really _need more help, Mom."

"No kid in their right mind would want to spend their Saturdays with a bunch of criminals," Angela said, her lips slightly strained. "Except for you."

"It will look good on my college applications," Charlotte pointed out, trying to smile comfortingly. It was the best excuse she had and usually won her Mom over. Despite her aversion to sending Charlotte away for college, Angela did want her daughter to get into a good school and achieve all the dreams she had not been able to achieve.

She sighed. "Just… don't be disappointed when it doesn't work, okay?"

Charlotte kissed her quickly on the cheek. "Of course not. I'm just going to give it a shot, and see where it goes." She grabbed an umbrella from the peg on the wall, and walked out of the house with another farewell to her mother.

As always, the air was dense and chilly around her. She shivered slightly, digging out the keys to her car from her pocket, as she searched through the dense fog for the outline of her two-seater car. She slipped in, dropping her bag into the passenger seat, and turned the engine on. After its usual hesitant stall, the car sprung to life.

She absolutely loved Forks, she admitted. The people here were only kind, it was a beautiful and lush place despite—or due to—all the rain, and her mother had made sure she got a really good start to life here. She just wanted to make sure that the good start didn't get wasted staying here for the rest of her life. Every person in this town had been here for all or most of their life and she saw who they had become because of that and she just didn't want that happening to her. She didn't want to settle into a comfortable life with whatever small job she could get, create a family, and live happily ever after. Well… she _did_ want to live happily ever after, but just doing something that _mattered_. And for that, she needed to leave Forks for at least a little while.

The high school was deserted when Charlotte pulled into the parking lot. She grabbed her bag, swinging it over one shoulder, and stepped out of the car. She walked into the first of the collection of one-storied brick buildings that made up Forks High School and found the front door to the office locked. Knowing it would be that way, she dropped onto the wooden bench placed against the wall next to the door and pulled out her latest literary pursuit—_My Sister's Keeper_ by Jodi Picoult.

Mrs. Cope stepped through the front doors at exactly 7:30 as she did every morning. "Oh, Charlotte, you're a little early today!"

"Hi, Mrs. Cope," Charlotte smiled at her. She placed her book back into her bag as middle-aged and absent-minded Mrs. Cope unlocked the office and stepped into it. Charlotte followed her, allowing her time to turn on the lights and get settled at the front desk.

"Now, what can I do for you today, my dear?" Mrs. Cope smiled warmly, perching her glasses on her nose. Charlotte suddenly remembered that she also had her glasses on and pulled them off quickly.

"I wanted to ask you about the field-trip to the Olympic Correction Center. I was wondering if you got a chance to talk to Principal Greene."

"Oh, yes, I did," Mrs. Cope replied enthusiastically. Charlotte liked the tone of her voice. She stepped forward, excited to hear what the principal had said. "He really liked the idea of a field-trip to the… umm… where was it to again?"

"The Olympic Correction Center," Charlotte supplied quickly, not discouraged by the fact that Mrs. Cope couldn't even remember the subject of the conversation. Principal Greene had agreed, right?!

"Right, the Olympic Correction Center," Mrs. Cope nodded, turning on the computer screen on her desk. She turned back to Charlotte with a furrow in her brow. "But… he's afraid it might not be a very _popular_ destination with the parents."

"Oh, I understand that parents might be nervous at the beginning, but I'm sure he could convince them of the importance of visiting—"

"He's not quite sure if the board of directors will allow such a trip, my dear," Mrs. Cope interrupted with a note of sympathy in her voice.

Charlotte felt her face drop and quickly moved to recover her smile. There was still hope, she told herself. "I could speak with the board of directors personally and present them with a detailed itinerary for a potential field trip," she explained. "I could do it today if need be—"

Mrs. Cope's sympathy was turning into pity. "I'm afraid nothing can convince them, Charlotte. As the committee consists mainly of parents of children attending the school, it would take a _lot_ to change their minds about sending their kids to a prison."

"But it's not a prison, it's a _correction_ center," Charlotte replied desperately. "Community involvement with such a facility is so important to a successful provision of aid to those in need."

"I understand, my dear," Mrs. Cope sighed. "My husband works at the Clallam Bay Correction Center, too, but I really don't see the board bending on this."

Charlotte nodded. She had been expecting disappointment, but that didn't soften the blow. "It's okay, thank you for trying," she said to the lady with a soft smile.

Mrs. Cope bit her lip as she watched Charlotte for a few silent moments. "Okay, fine," she sighed, throwing her hands up into the air. "There is one thing you could try but I'm not sure it will even work."

Charlotte looked up, her heart racing once again. "Anything! I'll make it happen," she promised.

"You could try getting the student-body involved. If you can prove to the board that enough students are interested in this field trip to invest the money into it, _and_ have figures of authority—like teachers—talk to them about the ups and downs of pursuing such a trip, then… the board _might_ consider it again."

Student _and_ faculty event. Mrs. Cope was right… it was doubtful whether such a thing could happen. After all, the reason Charlotte had suggested the idea for the field-trip was so that students might get interested in volunteering at the center _after_ visiting it. She knew already that they weren't interested right now. It was the only chance she had, though, and she had to try. "I'll get on it right away," she told Mrs. Cope. "Thank you so much."

"No problem," Mrs. Cope replied with a warm smile. "Now, there's something I wanted to ask _you_."

"Mm-hmm?"

"I'm sure you've heard already that we're getting a new addition to our school this morning."

How could she have _not_ heard it by now? She'd either have to be deaf or dead to not catch the rumors in Forks. As its population was somewhere around 3500, every piece of news from common gardening endeavors to the birth of a baby spread through town at the speed of light. Possibly the most exciting news to hit the town was the addition of a new member to their population. The arrival of the Perez's nephew, Damon Arlington from Minneapolis, Minnesota, had been hot buzz ever since Cynthia Perez announced the news to her neighbor and best friend, Angela Marks.

"As he's new to the school, Principal Greene thought it would be good to have someone show him around and who better to do that than his new neighbor and our senior class president?"

Charlotte laughed lightly at Mrs. Cope's enthusiasm, but she was already regretting this conversation. As easy as it was for her to speak to authority figures like Mrs. Cope or the school's board of directors, her heart began to race at the thought of having to entertain a stranger for an entire day _at the least_. Sure, everyone would probably jump at the opportunity to get introduced to a new-comer and Damon will doubtless make several other friends and leave her alone by the end of the day, but that also meant _she_ would have to introduce him to the people _first_. Another huge draw-back since she barely ever talked to most of her classmates.

"He also has a few classes with you throughout the day, so that just makes it more convenient! What do you say, my dear?" Mrs. Cope asked with a hint of doubt.

"Umm… sure," Charlotte replied, trying to sound eager. "I can show him around."

"Perfect!" Mrs. Cope clapped her hands together softly. "I'm sure he'll be very grateful for your help."

Charlotte mumbled something nice and left the office. She sat back down on the bench outside, pulled out her book once again, and immersed herself between the lines during the dreaded wait for the new-comer.

The building slowly began filling around her as the time passed by. The once-quiet hallway outside the office was soon ringing with talk and laughter. Charlotte barely noticed anything as her eyes swiftly moved through the pages of her book. She was pulled out of her reverie briefly when a freshman tripped over her extended legs, having been pushed jokingly by his friend. He mumbled a quick apology, turning as red as an apple, and stumbled away with his friends, laughing. She simply sighed and returned to her book once again, flipping the page.

She realized exactly how much time had passed when the five-minute warning bell blared through the halls. She jumped slightly, realizing the hallway had almost cleared out around her, and turned her wrist over to check the time. "Crap," she whispered. She stuffed her book into her bag and jumped to her feet. She had thought Mrs. Cope would come get her when Damon arrived, but perhaps she was expecting her to check in? She felt guilty for having lost track of the time and hoped Damon hadn't been waiting in the office all this time.

There were three students in the office getting absence slips signed, requesting an announcement to be made and so on, but none of them were strangers. She stepped past the short line, apologizing quickly as the students shot her annoyed looks, and knocked on Mrs. Cope's desk to catch her attention. "Hi, Mrs. Cope, did I miss Damon?"

"Oh," Mrs. Cope blinked, looking surprised. Her eyes scanned the room quickly. "I haven't even seen him yet, dear."

"H-He didn't check in yet?" Charlotte asked confused. She checked her watch again—three and a half minutes—as the students in line made impatient noises.

"No. You best get to class, Charlotte. I'll let him know that he should find you if he comes in later."

Charlotte nodded. "Okay, sure." She turned around quickly and practically ran out of the office. She was never… _ever_ late for class. In fact, the last time she had not been in her desk by the five-minute warning bell was three years ago when she and her mom had gotten into a terrible car accident on their way over from picking up a friend. Even then, Charlotte had made it on time to her class, falling into her chair just as the final bell rang.

But History was in the last classroom in the farthest building from the office, she thought as she stepped out of the office building. It wasn't a long walk, but she rushed to make it on time.

The parking lot was full of cars now but the grounds were deserted. "That's because everyone's in class as they should be," she muttered to herself angrily. There was a slight drizzle in the air and she ducked under the overhanging of a near-by building to avoid it. She skirted around the building and down its length to the building next to it.

She was about to enter through the back door when something caught her eye. She stopped, her hand on the doorknob, as her eyes searched the slant of the hill next to the school. The top of the hill was covered with the same thick forest that down the length of Forks and between the trees was the shadow of a figure. She stepped away from the door hesitantly, watching the distant figure.

It was a guy. And someone she did not know. Her best guess was Damon Arlington. He was wearing a black leather jacket, his backpack dumped at his feet on the ground, and look quite preoccupied with something in his hands. She turned back to the door leading to her History class, then looked up towards him. He was turned towards her, but didn't see her as he leaned against the thick trunk of a tree. She sighed and walked forward, ducking her head slightly against the rain.

"Hey," she called out as she approached him. He finally looked up with the barest hint of surprise in his light brown eyes. He quickly snapped his mouth shut causing his straight jaw to flex slightly. "Are you Damon Arlington?"

"Guilty," he replied in a low, groggy voice.

"Umm… why aren't you in school?"

She admitted the words sounded rather lame to her own ears, but wasn't expecting his rude response of, "Who are you, my mother?" stated with a mocking smile. He turned away, twirling something between his fingers. She saw that it was a cigarette.

"Did you sign in at the office?"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied.

She rolled her eyes. This really wasn't her business, but he _was_ new and he probably didn't even know where the office was to begin with. "Mrs. Cope said she hasn't seen you yet."

"Do I know you?" He asked.

"What?"

"I mean, you're apparently spying on me and everything, and I don't even know your name."

"Charlotte… and I'm not _spying_ on you," she scoffed, feeling her cheeks burn against the chilled air. "Mrs. Cope asked me to show you around today 'cuz you're new at school. I was supposed to wait for you at the office until you checked in but you never even showed up and now—" she checked her watch with a groan "—I'm late for class!"

"Let me guess, you're never late for class?"

Charlotte avoided his curious eyes. "No."

"That's all right," he drawled. "It's good to break your habits once in a while. Since you're late already, would you mind showing me around town instead? I completely got lost looking for your liquor store last night."

"No!" Charlotte gasped. The fact that he was still smiling in that funny way—as though he found it humorous that she was getting so offended by him—was not helping her shock at his blatancy. "Listen, I have to get to class now, so are you coming or not?"

He looked towards the school with obvious disinterest. "I'd rather rot my lungs with carcinogenic smoke than have my brains picked at by your half-assed teachers."

She pursed her lips together distastefully and crossed her arms. "Well, it's a good thing you've got a cigarette in your hand then."

"Yeah, lucky me!" he grinned, flipping the cigarette into his mouth. "Hey, you got a lighter?"

She opened her mouth to retort, but remembered the time again and decided she'd rather just leave him there. She turned on her heel and stalked away, not bothering to say good-bye. She heard a soft chuckle behind her and fisted her hands.

Forks officially was home to a 'bad boy', she thought with sympathy for Damon's aunt and uncle. She knew Margaret and Carlos very well, having taken piano lessons from the pleasant woman when she was nine. Margaret had told her of her elder sister who had married into a very affluent family and settled with her doctor-husband in Minneapolis. She always spoke so fondly of her sister, but admitted to not knowing much about her son as they don't meet up too often. Having met Damon now, Charlotte could tell that all the wealth and influence had quickly pampered him to no end. She only pitied his aunt now, having to deal with him at home.

Mrs. Belton, a usually moody and bitter woman, didn't press the issue when Charlotte quickly apologized for being late and slipped into her chair, although she was _very_ surprised by her lateness. Perks of being one of her best students, Charlotte guessed. She continued with the lecture on the Great Depression, deaf to the whispered conversations throughout the uninterested class.

"Did you ever find the book I left at your place--?"

"I wonder what's for lunch today…"

"Isn't the new kid supposed to start at school today? Have you seen him yet?

Charlotte scowled, turning her attention back to the teacher as she began writing on the board. After all the hype going through the school about the 'new boy's' arrival, her peers were going to be sorely disappointed with the result… a kid who didn't even show up for school. _How _exciting_!_ She though sarcastically.

It was fifteen minutes into the class when Mrs. Belton's monotonous voice was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. It opened the next moment and Damon peeked around it, his eyes roaming the room before they fell on the teacher. The entire class felt silent immediately, watching with baited breath as he stepped in. He held his backpack in one hand and a slip of paper in his other. He handed the latter to Mrs. Belton. His eyes slowly wandered to the front row of the classroom where Charlotte sat and she quickly turned away, focusing on her page of notes.

"Ah, yes—Mr. Arlington. I was expecting you this morning, but _on time_, not halfway into the class," Mrs. Belton said sharply.

Damon shrugged indifferently. "It's actually only fifteen minutes into the class… ma'am."

A sudden buzz of whispering broke out through the room, startling Charlotte. She looked up to see Damon searching the room, his eyes slightly bewildered by their reaction.

"Late is _late_, Mr. Arlington, and lateness is not tolerated at Forks High School."

"It was my fault, Mrs. Belton," Charlotte said quickly, surprising herself. She gulped when Mrs. Belton's shrewd eyes turned to her. She had already pushed her luck today with being late, and now she was doing it a second time. _Why?!_ Charlotte cleared her throat, noticing that the class had fallen silent again, and pushed ahead. "I was supposed to lead Damon to his first class, but as you know, we were running late at the office, so I gave him directions, thinking they were pretty straight-forward. I guess… he got lost though."

She didn't look at Damon at all during what she thought was a _terrible_ explanation, but Mrs. Belton gave her a sharp nod. "You can go sit down, Mr. Arlington. Just make sure you're not late to my class again."

"Thank you, ma'am," Damon said lightly. Charlotte kept her eyes centered on her notebook as he passed by her and prayed Mrs. Belton would start talking soon so that the stupid whispering would stop.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Frustrations and Lucky Guesses**

"So, where to next?"

Charlotte took her time packing her books back into her bag before answering his question. She got to her feet, donning her backpack, and finally turned to him with a polite smile. "You _do_ want to go to class, then?"

"Oh, yeah," he nodded. "Who'd want to miss these enlightening classes offered at Forks High School?"

Sarcasm again. Charlotte quickly looked towards Mrs. Belton from the corner of her eye to make sure she hadn't heard his comment. "I have English too, so I'll take you there."

"You better. You're my guide, remember… although you seem to be confusing the meaning of that word with that of 'mother'."

She gave him a withering look, but decided she was better off not replying. In fact, she was better of just not talking to him. In the little time since she had met him, he had made her late for class and almost got her in trouble with her teacher, all the while sporting a devil-may-care attitude.

They walked in silence for quite some time though 'silence' was hardly what was happening around them. Newcomers were a point of fascination in Forks due to their involvement with the fantastic on-goings of the town. In 2004, it had been Isabella Swan who soon married into the lengenary Cullen family. In 2007, it had been Fanny Burdow who mysteriously disappeared two months after arriving in the town. The beginning of the last school-year had paid host to another legendary Cullen—Renesmee who was the sixth adoptive daughter of Dr. Carlisle Cullen. She didn't need anything interesting to happen to her to be discussed on a daily basis in the rumors-mill. She _was_ something interesting. Only God knew how many times she had been asked out since she arrived here. Charlotte would have found her interesting, perhaps even nice, but all the popularity the girl had to put up through on a daily basis kept Charlotte's presence a safe distance away from her.

And now there was Damon Arlington. Charlotte was sure news of his cheeky attitude against Mrs. Belton was spreading through the school even as they spoke.

"I _never_ thought I'd end up at a place like this," Damon muttered more to himself than anyone else.

Charlotte turned to him curiously. "Why _did_ you come here?" She asked him. Margaret had failed to mention the reason for Damon's visit in all the time that she had been telling people he would be coming.

Damon's eyes kept searching through the students around him. "How safe am I sharing information about myself here?"

"Not at all," Charlotte replied honestly.

"I'd rather keep to myself then," he responded.

Which was exactly what she did on a daily basis, so she thought his concern was fair enough. She turned away again. "This is us," she said as she walked through the door to the English classroom. She headed straight for her usual seat at the front and center of the class and dropped her backpack to the ground.

"You're not serious," Damon laughed. She looked up and found him eyeing her choice of seating with great hesitation.

"I always sit here," she told him.

"I'm sure you do, but haven't we decided it's good to break habits once in a while?"

She would _never_ stop being surprised by his abrasive behavior. "Yes, well… I've broken one habit today already, so let's not overwork me, okay?"

He looked thoughtful. "I think you can take it."

She fought the urge to growl with frustration. "Look, you don't _have _to sit with me if you don't want to."

"Oh, I _don't_," he told her quickly. "I just thought _you_ might want to sit with _me_. I mean… it would make it easier for you to continue spying on me."

"For the last time--!"

"Hey, who is that over there?" He cut her off as his eyes floated to a back corner of the room. Charlotte turned around, searching for his object of interest, and immediately knew who he was looking at. She turned back to him and rolled her eyes. _One more to the list of Sullen for Cullen_. Yes, such a list did actually exist and was maintained by a very bitter group of senior girls in her fifth-hour Biology class. She had to endure every painful second of their envious discussions as her lab partner happened to be their little ring-leader and decided to use their table as meeting grounds.

"That," she sighed as she sat down, "is Renesmee Cullen, the youngest addition to Dr. Cullen's brood of adoptive kids."

"Does she have a boyfriend?" He sounded like he was trying to confirm some doubt.

"Yes, she does—"

"Some guy named Jacob?"

She looked up suspiciously. "How do you know?"

He turned to her with a shrug and a crooked grin. "Just a lucky guess."

Or someone had already told him of the famous Cullen girl. She shook her head slightly as she sat down. She was a little surprised to notice that he sat down next to her as well—at the front of the room—but his glazed expression as he continued to stare towards the back corner explained his action. "So, what's the deal with her and her boyfriend?"

Charlotte didn't particularly care to answer him. Even on her best day, she wasn't much of a talker, let alone a gossiper, and today was _not_ her best day. All throughout History, she had been trying to figure out ways to get students interested in signing a petition for a field trip to the Olympic Correction Center. Therefore, she was glad when Damon was momentarily distracted by Kaitlin Ryce who stepped up to him with an overly enthusiastic smile on her face.

"Hi! I'm Kaitlin," she announced.

Damon slowly turned to her, his eyebrows raised as a hard smile pressed onto his face at the sight of the blond-haired, bubbly girl before him. "Hi…" he replied slowly.

"You're Damon Arlington, aren't you?"

Her voice carried through the entire room, causing several people to turn to them with open interest. Charlotte smiled, noticing Damon's discomfort as a scowl passed over his face. She turned away, her eyes on the notebooks that she was removing from her bag, but unable to stop listening to their conversation. At least it wasn't difficult to hear every word Kaitlin was saying.

"That is such a cool name!"

"Yeah, my mom had an affair with Matt Damon. It was her way of telling my dad about it."

Charlotte had to stop her actions to fight the urge to turn to him with incredulous eyes.

"No… fricking… way! Matt Damon is your _father_?!"

She couldn't fight it. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw that his face had frozen with a hint of bewilderment. He turned to look at Charlotte as though to ask, 'is this girl for serious?!' She coughed loudly to cover up her laughter. "No," he replied slowly.

"Oh... well, I just wanted to introduce myself 'cuz I'm sure it must be hard being a newcomer in town and everything. This school can be pretty confusing, so I can take you to your classes if you like—I'll just get a permission slip from the office."

"Yeah… _really_ confusing," Damon sighed sarcastically. "Thanks, but I've already been assigned a moth—I mean, a guide." He jerked his thumb towards Charlotte with an apologetic smile to Kaitlin.

"Oh," Kaitlin replied, her disappointment obvious in her tone as she looked over Charlotte quickly as though she were an insignificant painting on the wall.

"Actually, that's completely fine, Kaitlin," Charlotte smiled widely at her. "You can take him."

Damon looked at her thoughtfully for a second, then grinned at Kaitlin. "Great, you can take me." And then he winked… he actually winked at the girl who suddenly seemed pathetically defenseless in Charlotte's eyes. Her mouth dropped open and she began to blush and stutter slightly as Damon offered her a lazy smile.

The bell rang at that moment and Mr. Mason called the class to attention. Kaitlin quickly slipped away to a flurry of excited giggling from her girlfriends who had seen the entire encounter and the rest of the class continued in a blissfully uninteresting manner. The moment the bell rang, Charlotte began packing her books without looking at Damon, wondering if he would make some snide comment about her acting like a 'mother' and walk off to Kaitlin who was quickly making her way towards them.

Damon, once again, had an entirely different agenda than Charlotte had expected. "Can I borrow this?" He asked, grabbing her pen without waiting for her reply. He jumped out of his seat, not bothering with his books or backpack and walked out the door after… Renesmee Cullen.

"Hi," he called out.

Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte saw Nessie turn to him like a graceful swan floating in a lake. "Hello?"

"I think you dropped your pen."

Charlotte gasped. That was her favorite pen!

"No, I didn't. You actually stole that from Charlotte so you had a reason to come talk to me."

Perceptive and very blunt. Perhaps that was why Charlotte had always liked Nessie. On the rare occasion that she spoke at all, she always spoke her mind.

"Guilty," Damon replied easily. "Would you like to have coffee with me sometime?"

"I don't drink coffee."

"Okay… so what _do_ you drink?"

Nessie simply smiled. "Good bye, Damon." She was about to turn away when Damon stopped her again.

"You know my name."

"The entire _school_ knows your name," Nessie replied.

"And yours. Guess we have more in common than you think."

Was he _serious_?! This was _Forks High School!_ Everybody knew everybody else's name—perks of living in a town the size of a very large mansion.

"Hey, Damon," Kaitlin had finally stepped forward with a little uncertainty in her voice. Charlotte knew what she was probably thinking—the same thing every other girl and perhaps even the guys thought when they were in close vicinity to Nessie Cullen—that she was like an ugly duck compared to Nessie's beauty and she had no right to stand in her presence as her peers would point out at any second. Charlotte rolled her eyes, looking longingly towards her pen which Damon was still twirling between his fingers. She _badly_ wanted to escape. She no longer had to take him around to all his classes—he now had Kaitlin… or Renesmee for that—so there was absolutely no point in hanging around, hoping he had enough decency to at least give her pen back after _stealing_ it from her. She sighed after a few more seconds of deliberation and decided to screw it. She shouldered her back-pack and walked towards the now-crowded door.

"Hey, Kaitlin," Damon greeted her warmly enough, boosting the girl's ego ever so slightly. "I was just returning Renesmee's pen to her."

"Oh… hi, Nessie," Kaitlin mumbled.

"Nessie?" Damon gasped. "Nessie! That is a _really_ cute nickname—very sexy, if you know what I mean."

That was the last thing Charlotte heard of their conversation as she quickly slipped past the group of people and hurried away.

She saw him the first thing when she walked into the partially-filled cafeteria five minutes before lunch hour later that day. He sat by himself, his face hidden by a small book. She squinted, trying to recognize the cover, but there was a reason she sat at the front of the classroom in every one of her classes. Without her glasses, her vision was thoroughly buried in a thick fog that had nothing to do with the weather beyond a ten-mile raidius.

She looked down at the folder in her hand. On the top right-hand corner of it was a label reading 'Damon G. Arlington'. Mrs. Cope had cornered her just a few moments ago when she had went to the office to drop off a note for her from Mr. Varner, the maths teacher. _'I heard Mr. Arlington's showed up to first hour! I guess he didn't realize he had to check in with me, so can you just give him this folder, my dear? It has his schedule in it. Poor boy must be terribly confused as to where he should be.'_ Who _forgets_ to check in at the office on their first day at a new school? Charlotte had been itching to refuse, but there really was no reason for her to turn down the lady. So she had taken the folder and stalked off to the cafeteria.

And here he was, sitting with a full tray of food before him without a single worry on his mind. She looked longingly towards the garbage can. She could dump the folder in there and no one would ever have to know… excpet for Mrs. Cope. Whatever… just bite the bullet.

"Hey."

He dropped the book—Wuthering Heights—to the table. "Hello, mother."

She rolled her eyes and thrust the folder towards him. "Mrs. Cope wanted me to give this to you."

He quirked his eyebrow at the folder, not bothering to take it from her. "Mrs. Cope?"

"The school secretary? The really nice lady at the front desk of the office where you were supposed to _check in_ this morning?"

"How many times do you go to the office everyday?" He gasped, shaking his head with amusement.

"Just take the stupid folder."

"Yes, ma'am," he scoffed, finally grabbing the folder.

Charlotte clenched her jaw shut, willing herself not to retort, but she apparently did not possess such a strong will-power. She slammed her books onto the table and fell into a chair in front of him, ignoring his pleasantly surprised look.

"I thought you knew you had History and English with me. You were walking around school this morning without even knowing which classes to go to, weren't you? You didn't think to go check with the office as to where you should be?"

"They're all classes I need to go to anyway," he shrugged. "Who cares what order I go in?"

"The office obviously does," she pointed out. "You were wasting your time, my time, _and_ our teachers' time by not knowing which classes to attend. You had Biology second period, did you know that? And English third period, but I'm sure you ran off somewhere else with Kaitlin and Nessie—"

"Spying on me again, huh?"

She froze. _Calm, Charlotte, stay calm!_ "Yes, I looked at your schedule to see where your last class was and noticed you weren't even bothering to follow it. I mean, that's understandable considering you didn't even know what your schedule was, but—"

"Do you ever need to go home and just scream into your pillow?"

There was a sharp pain in her temple. She sighed. "What?"

"Have you ever actually yelled at someone?"

She opened her mouth, then closed it. "I'm trying to right now!"

"Okay," he chuckled. "I think we need to give you a lesson in yelling. See, yelling is defined by a significant volume change in your voice when you speak with the object of your irritation. It's supposed to be therepeutic, sort of a metaphorical release of your pent-up emotions. It's not going to work very well if you talk to me as though we're discussing the weather or something—'hello, Damon, how are you today? Are you enjoying the non-existent sun? I'm sorry to hear that. By the way, did you know that you really piss me off?'"

She bit down on her tongue to keep herself from saying anything she would regret.

"So come on," he schooched forward in his seat as though preparing himself for something. "Yell at me."

"Wha—no! I'm not going to yell at you."

"Do you want to?"

"I already did."

"No, no, we've already established that doesn't count. Yell like you mean it."

"I don't… want to," she bit out.

"Huh," he fell back in his chair, watching her for a moment. "Thought I pushed your buttons a lot this morning."

"You did."

"Enough to make you want to punch me, I'm sure."

"Perhaps."

"So… _still_ no yelling?"

"No."

He smiled. "Okay, then."

She gulped, completely lost. What had just happened? She had sat down for a very specific reason and suddenly couldn't remember whether she had succeeded or not.

"Is there anything else?"

She stared at her hands, trying to focus. "Kaitlin is a really nice girl."

"What?" He laughed.

"I saw how you looked at her when she first introduced herself—like you didn't really care who the heck she was—"

"I… _didn't_ care who the heck she was."

She took a deep breath. "Yes, well… I just wanted to say that she may not be as pretty as Nessie, but she's a really nice person and I think it was nice of her to offer to show you around when the task wasn't even assigned to her."

He stared at her silently for a second during which she stared at her hands. Finally, he sighed. "Point noted," he told her, lifting the book up again.

What the _hell_ had she been thinking giving him that little speech of hers? He didn't even care. She knew he wouldn't care. Damon Arlington hardly seemed like the person to care about _anything_, not school, not people—nobody but himself. _Charlotte, Charlotte, Charlotte_, she sighed to herself. Well… at least she had tried. Now there would be no more reason for her to talk to him as long as they existed. She grabbed her books and walked away with a silent good-bye to him which left her feeling very good about the heavenly solitude she would soon be enjoying once again.


End file.
